


Louder Than Words

by thosewhoslitherinthedark



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Adults, Anal Sex, Canonical Character Death, Consensual Sex, Don't Like Don't Read, Father-Son Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Major plot spoilers, Male My Unit | Byleth, Parent/Child Incest, Pre-Canon, Pre-Time Skip, Rough Oral Sex, Sad Ending, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21571903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosewhoslitherinthedark/pseuds/thosewhoslitherinthedark
Summary: Byleth's never been good at putting his emotions into words, so he expresses his love for his father in another way...
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Louder Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is about consensual incest between adult characters. It is told to us in the plot that the "fire" happened twenty years ago, which would make Byleth 20-ish around the start of the game. The sexual acts depicted in this fic, including pre-game events, all happen when Byleth is over 18.
> 
> If you don't like incest content, or this content is likely to be a trigger for you, don't read it.
> 
> Also: Major plot spoilers abound! This spoils an event about a third of the way into the game, on all routes, related to Byleth and Jeralt. Play the game and don't let yourself get spoiled by my dumb fic, the game is way better.

The wound cut deep, of that Jeralt was sure. This time, he wasn't going to make it out alive. He lay in his son's arms and felt a single tear fall onto his cheek as agony tore through him. Dying was more painful than he'd imagined it would be.

Was it raining? Jeralt opened his eyes to see the first drop of water had been a tear from his son's eye. All he could muster was a resounding sense of relief that their unusual relationship hadn't damaged his son in some way. Not that Byleth's lack of emotion was new, by any means, but it was hard to know if Byleth had really wanted any of their trysts. He'd always initiated it, always gotten hard as a rock while they rutted in tents and inns across Fodlan, but who was to know for sure?

It was taboo to engage in sexual relations with those related by blood, but Byleth was an adult, albeit a strange one. Sometimes they would be alone together for days, traveling in muck and mud to kill in the name of money, far away from civilization and all its rules. Jeralt had been surprised when Byleth had caught him jacking off in an old barn and taken his cock in hand, bringing him to completion with a skill that suggested practice. This was something he hadn't taught his boy, and he exploded all over Byleth's gloved hand, looking at his stoic expression with something akin to fear.

"Children don't do this to their parents, son," Jeralt warned him.

"I know." It was hard to know if he felt any shame or remorse—anything at all, really. Those ice blue eyes betrayed nothing about the contents of Byleth's soul. "You had a need. I fulfilled it."

And so it went on. Later that night, Jeralt woke to find Byleth pressed up against him under the blanket, stiff and wanting.

"You wanna fuck your old man?" Jeralt chuckled. Byleth seemed to take that as assent, pulling down his breeches and rutting against his ass. "If you're gonna do that, get some grease from the cooking pot and spread it on your dick." Byleth did as he was told, and Jeralt didn't argue as his son bent him over a nearby fence and plowed into him, fucking him hard and fast against the railing while the sheep watched. Byleth came inside him and pulled out, going to sit by the campfire in silence.

It was always like that, but Jeralt couldn't say they weren't close. It was almost like Byleth wanted to express things with his body that he couldn't do in words. Sometimes they'd get screwed over by a client, and Byleth would fuck Jeralt's face to the point he'd gag. That was when he knew he'd made a mistake taking the job. Other times, it almost seemed loving as they rocked together by the fire, each thrust long and slow as they took pleasure from one another. Jeralt was content at those moments, almost like everything was as it should be.

At the monastery, though, everyone had known they were father and son. Rhea seemed to make a point of it, and Jeralt was both joyful and sad to see his son make friends with the students. There didn't seem to be the time or the privacy to continue their relationship, and in the last few months, he'd barely had time to speak to Byleth, let alone sleep with him. Jeralt told himself that at the monastery, reputation mattered, and neither of them could afford the risk of anyone finding out. Byleth would be considered a bad influence on the students, and might lose his role as professor. Jeralt pulled back, content to watch his son excel at a distance.

It was for the best, Jeralt knew. This thing they had was going nowhere. Meanwhile, Byleth was starting to look happy in the company of others his own age. It pained Jeralt to think that none of their intimacies had been anything more than a young man letting off steam with the only available person. He'd started to crave the taste of Byleth's cock now that they rarely saw one another. On missions with the Knights of Seiros he kept to himself, even though Alois seemed to make a point of wanting to get into his bed. What was it that seemed to draw his sons to want him? Was he a dirty old man who took advantage of young men's trust in him?

But now, in Byleth's arms, his own breaths growing more shallow by the moment, he finally saw how much Byleth loved him. He'd never cried for anyone, but Byleth cried for his father. Cried for him. There were so many tears it felt like a downpour, and he realized he was out of time to say what needed to be said. He was the only one who could express himself through words, and it was his wish to make his son know that his emotions were acknowledged and appreciated.

"To think that the first time I saw you cry… your tears would be for me. It's sad, and yet… I'm happy for it."

"Thank you… kid."

He wouldn't say son. He couldn't say lover. He only hoped Byleth knew he was all of that to him and more as he closed his eyes for the final time. The heavens opened in a torrential downpour, and the last thing Jeralt felt was the contrast between the icy pinpricks of rain and the warm tears falling from his boy's eyes as he experienced grief for the first time.


End file.
